The Twins

At the age of ten or eleven the walk to school on a Monday morning was a long, slow one, especially in school uniform jacket and short trousers, and with my school bag hung over my shoulder.

I had learned since the age of five that school was a place where I had to be, every weekday. All I had to do was get dressed, go to school and be there all day. I was never sure why. I seldom had much to say at school. Not even when the teacher asked the class a question, or asked me something directly. I never knew what they wanted me to say. Somehow I'd found a way to keep out of trouble and was "doing well", although I needed to "work harder", as it said on my School Reports. The walks to school on Mondays were long and slow.

Over the recent months I had noticed, as the weather turned from spring rain to summer sunshine, a building site had opened up on the crossing that I was supposed to use to get to the school side of the road. Each week there was more, more brick walls, taller buildings with floor upon floor of windows. A building block was growing up on the corner of the road to school. But no-one lived there yet, there was a "KEEP OUT" sign on the wire fence.

I saw the two boys from a short distance walking through the building site. They were a little older than me, red-haired and oddly dressed, not in school uniform.

I knew there was something different because they were on the wrong side of the fence. The site was closed, fenced around with the wire fence, and a clear KEEP OUT sign. The boys were striking in appearance, not only because they lacked school uniform and had ginger red hair, but because there were two of them, exactly alike. I'd never seen twins before and they fascinated me. They were obviously fascinated by me too and for a moment we stood and looked at each other. They stood on the wrong side of the wire fence and looked at me, looking at them on my way to school on a Monday morning.

"We want to speak with you," one said, "We want to ask you something", added the other. I was confused, flattered that they wanted to speak with me, and unsure of what I would have to say to them that might be of use of interest to them. The two red-headed double strangers who were not going to school, pushed open a makeshift gate in the wire fence. "Come here, we want to speak with you" they insisted, repeating each other's words as they took hold of me, one on each side and ushered me through the opening in the fence, into the builders site where I shouldn't go. A few steps into this strange land ruled by the twins they said, "We can go in there," pointed at a builders shed and moved me towards it. "We want to ask you something" they repeated as they opened the door and pushed me into the shed.

It was dark in there. At least at first, and as my eyes got used to the dark I could see these two wild red-haired boys, standing between me and the half-closed door like animals viewing their prey. I felt weak, and calm. Somehow knew that there was nothing much to do about this. They only wanted to ask me something, not that I was any good at answering questions. "How much money have you got?" they asked, first checking with each other with a quick glance "How much money have you got, give it". "Nothing", I replied, honestly and without fear. "Prove it", they demanded and grabbed at me, going through my pockets and school bag, shaking out their contents on the floor. There was no money, just school books and pencils; and my school lunch. "Where's your lunch money?" they demanded in curiously agitated unison. "You must have your lunch money, it's Monday." "I don't eat school lunches. I have sandwiches.". It was a fact and the proof lay on the floor of the builders shed.

They kicked the sandwiches until they were no longer food, they kicked the books until they split open. Then they took it in turns to punch my stomach. One punch each. Cool and calm, they kicked, punched and said "Now you are one of us. You're OK", "You can go". And they pushed open the door to the shed and the sunlight and freedom streamed in. I picked up my books and school bag and left.

I left the twins standing in the builders shed. I left the building site and continued on my way to school. A school that had never prepared me for encounters with red-headed twins on building sites, wild twins who had readily captured me by wanting me to answer a few questions. I had never learned to reflect on the reason for those questions. No, at school I was "doing well", all I needed to do was "work harder". All I needed to do was answer the teacher's questions.